Left Door

It felt as if her body dissolved into a mist of nothingness. It was eerie, hovering in mid-air, mind perfectly clear and all-knowing. She was still trying to make sense of her surroundings when she spotted the exact scene pictured in the image just a few feet away and excitedly levitated over there.

Hovering right above the scene, she realized that she knew the names of the women and how they got into this awkward situation.

Suddenly, she accelerated again, crashing straight into the skull of a contestant. Mind-numbing sensations engulfed her as she found herself in the body of another person, feeling what they were feeling, thinking what they were thinking, and fearing what they were fearing.

I don't know when it all started, but I still vividly remember witnessing the spectacle the first time back in October last year, when Sharon wouldn't stop gushing about the incredible opportunities and the obscene wealth the winners of the tournament were amassing. And now, I was addicted as well.

My boobs felt like they would snap. The ropes were cinched so tight that my breasts looked like overfilled, purple balloons ready to pop. And still, all my strength went into stretching them even further, causing more pain while trying to haul my rival over the line.

I heard the rabid chanting of my fans, the booing of the opponent's supporters, and knew I was doing great today. Our audience consisted mostly of other players, of women that couldn't wait to submit their own charms to unspeakable tortures for a chance to win the big prize. Today's fans were tomorrow's opponents, and we all knew this only too well.

I winced, feeling the rope tightening further and pulling my body backwards. I couldn't feel my arms anymore, and my whole body buckled under the strain. But I knew I could rely on my well-trained legs, and that I still had enough power in me to win this fight. My thighs trembled as I prepared for another attack. I jerked at the rope so hard that I could hear the other woman squeak in surprise. Her tits must be just as strangled as my own pair, if not more.

Suddenly, the game master Judith, the woman that always had her boobs squeezed tight by rubber bands in order to train them, announced that we only had 10 seconds left before she would declare a tie. I could feel my opponent tugging at the rope even more, could feel my tits being pulled further and further up against my chin. I patiently waited for an opening just to unleash my final attack. I lunged forward, throwing my chest this way and that, hoping to **** my enemy off balance by nearly ripping my boobs off my chest.

The victorious cheers of my supporters and the slacking ropes were all I needed to know. I had won this round, one of many, and was one step closer to the grand prize. Would I be victorious? Would I make it through the tournament and come out on top? I didn't know. But I had to try, despite all the pain. If I needed to sacrifice my boobs, so be it!

Suddenly, a gust of wind grabbed Becca and pulled her out of the stranger's body and back through the door.